


She's a Rebel

by Bruteaous



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bruteaous/pseuds/Bruteaous
Summary: Was a oneshot, but not anymore thanks to the love of so many wonderful readers. :)Just an AU where Penelope and Josie and the gang are teenagers at Mystic Falls High, making poor life choices, and living their lives.





	1. Just Another Monday

_“Jojo, wait—”_

_Their faces were so close that the October chill felt like a distant memory, but then Josie jerked back, eyes opening and growing wide as she stared into Penelope’s green orbs. Penelope unconsciously held her breath, but she released it in a rush when a tear made its way down one of Josie’s cheeks and the taller brunette turned around and broke into a run, racing back towards the main street in their town._

_“Josie!”_

_Penelope ran after the other girl. Her lungs burned in her chest as she sprinted forward, but no matter how far Penelope pushed her muscles, Josie was getting farther and farther away and Penelope couldn’t catch up to her. Feelings of fear, rejection, and desperation overtook Penelope as she shouted for Josie to stop, arm outstretched towards Josie as the girl Penelope loved disappeared into darkness…_

Penelope startled awake to the obnoxious pounding cords of Greenday’s ‘She’s a Rebel,’ blaring from the speaker on her alarm clock. Waking up required a cooperation of the mind and body that was barely conscious, but necessary. Penelope’s first realization when she opened her green eyes to the ceiling was that she wasn’t dreaming anymore, but was in her room. The second was recognizing who she was: she was Penelope Park, 16, sophomore at Mystic Falls High and a complete and utter loser. She was home. The third and last realization to hit Penelope like a slap in the face, was that it was not just any generic morning; it was a Monday morning.

Ugh. Monday.

Penelope rolled over and turned her alarm off, making sure she sat up and resisted the urge to just roll back over and fall asleep. If she did, there was no way she was going to go to school that morning and if she missed another day, both of her moms would find a way to make sure she would be grounded permanently and never see the light of day ever again.

Okay, they wouldn’t go that far…probably. Still better not to give them the chance.

Penelope ran her hands over her face, scrubbing her skin of sleep before strolling into the bathroom adjoining her bedroom which she and her brothers were forced to share. Luckily, her older brother Paris was a bigshot freshman at Amherst College this year so Penelope didn’t have to grapple with him in order to gain control of the bathroom first. And Penelope’s little brother, Hector, was a heavy sleeper who struggled to roll out of bed at all much less get ready for the day.

One shower and a little makeup later, Penelope came vaulting wildly down the stairs and crossed through the open living rooms and dining rooms before emerging into the kitchen where, Julianna—her easy going ‘pushover’ mom—was pouring two cups of coffee. Penelope shimmied between her mom and the kitchen island, grabbing one of the cups of coffee in passing and sipping it gingerly as she stepped in front of the fridge, her mom’s indignant squeak skillfully ignored. Her strict as nails ‘military’ mom—Winifred Park, known as Freddie—chose that moment to step down the stairs more carefully than Penelope had. Her austere mom’s grey police officer’s uniform was meticulously pressed, corners tucked in, edges smoothed down as she sauntered into the kitchen, kissed Julianna sweetly on the lips, then strode around Penelope, stealing the coffee cup Penelope had stolen for herself with the same grace the teenage girl had inherited from her.

“Morning,” Freddie chirped, sipping at the hot black coffee as her free hand pulled a jalapeno bagel from the hastily organized bread box. Taking a small bite of her bagel, she slid over to stand beside Julianna again and kissed her wife on the cheek tenderly. “Ready for the day, my love?”

“Ready as I ever am on a Monday morning,” Juliana acquiesced, leaning momentarily against Freddie’s side before turning towards Penelope, who was munching on a slice of leftover pepperoni pizza the girl had pulled out of the fridge in lieu of a proper breakfast. “Do you have everything you need for the day, Penny?”

Penelope nodded absently, wiping her mouth on a paper towel and tossing it in the garbage along with the stale crust of the pizza that she couldn’t bring herself to finish, “More or less.”

“Did you finish your report for history class?” Freddie asked, walking over to lean against the island counter across from Penelope.

Freddie was a bit taller than Penelope and her black hair was a bit longer and always pulled up in an efficient ponytail, but otherwise they might as well have been mirrors of one another, sporting the same smooth olive complexion and green-gold eyes that made them stand out from their peers. Penelope held Freddie’s gaze, knowing that the moment she dropped it would be the moment she lost the little contest they’d been engaged in since Penelope was twelve. As a preteen girl, Penelope had quickly learned that knowledge was power and the less you let those around you know, the more power you have. Freddie was already a master of this. She was a cop and true—Mystic Falls in the middle of nowhere Virginia didn’t get as much crime as New York or even Grove Hill—but that didn’t mean Freddie was a hick pushover.

Despite not having been a teenager for twenty or so years, Freddie could read Penelope’s moods as easily as the pages of a YA novel, which was why Penelope was closer to Julianna overall, because she was easier to deceive, yes, but also because Julianna was much more forgiving than Freddie was when confronted with Penelope’s not so smart life choices.

“What was the book about this time?” Freddie asked, holding Penelope’s gaze so she could gauge the truth of her answer.

Penelope paused in lifting her backpack onto her shoulder, momentarily knocked off balance by the look she knew Freddie used to question unhelpful criminals at her precinct, but the raven haired teenager recovered quickly and answered coolly, “It’s called ‘Survival in Auschwitz,’ by Primo Levi and it’s—surprise—about survival in Auschwitz.”

From across the room, Julianna snorted into her cup of coffee and Penelope smirked, but Freddie only raised one eyebrow and kept her daughter pinned beneath her steely stare, “And you actually read it, right?”

Penelope shrugged her backpack onto her shoulders, “Most of it.”

Freddie opened her mouth to say something else—probably something critical and motherly, Penelope realized—but Julianna’s voice rang through the kitchen, reaching the teenager first.

“Where’s your, brother?”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Penelope quipped, just being a little shit because she could.

Julianna sighed, “I meant Hector. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, when I was walking down the hallway past his room.”

“Was he awake?” Freddie asked.

Penelope shook her head, just happy that the topic had shifted away from her, “Nope, not even a little bit.”

Freddie sighed and looked back at the stairs forlornly. Most mornings, Freddie took the kids to school because she left for the precinct around the time when the kids needed to be there and—per their marriage contract allegedly—the mom who took the kids to school was responsible for getting them up and around as well. This morning though, Julianna was in a generous mood. She indicated she would take care of it and disappeared up the stairs as Penelope backed slowly towards the back door.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Freddie asked, turning her head just in time to narrow her eyes at Penelope’s retreating form.

“School,” Penelope shrugged. “Hope’s giving me a ride this week.”

Freddie sighed, watching her daughter walk away with the expression of a woman who’d acknowledged—against all of her instincts—that her children were beyond her control, “Just please be in class on time. You have no excuse to be late when I drop you off half an hour early and yet you still manage somehow to do so. If you maintain your tardies with regularity, you’re going to have more than just detention to worry about from now on, you hear me, Pen?”

Penelope shot Freddie a peace sign over her shoulder as she shouldered through the hard-to-open back door and then struggled to shut it again. From her side of the house, Penelope could already see Hope’s ugly ass yellow 1981 Mercury Capri that she’d inherited from a shifty uncle when she turned 16 waiting for her on the curb. Penelope ran, her new converse scuffing through the grass as she seemed to glide across the lawn until she was beside the car, throwing the door open and causing Hope to startle in her seat.

“Careful, don’t crap your pants, grandma,” Penelope teased, laughing when Hope flicked her off.

“Screw you,” Hope growled, throwing the car into drive and taking off even though Penelope’s door had barely closed behind her.

“No thanks, you’re not my type.”

Hope gloated with a characteristic smirk, “I’m everyone’s type.”

“Yeah, no, can’t see why really. You’re just so mean to everyone.”

“So are you and yet, you have a perfect angel of a girlfriend who adores you for some reason god only knows or understands.”

The ride to the vast underutilized high school parking lot was filled with the usual banter and good natured taunts. There were about five other cars spread out in the student section by the music building. One of them was MG’s sleek black Hummer H3. Stepping out of it were the five other familiars of Penelope’s morning routine: MG, Landon, his sister Evan, Lizzie Saltzman and—most importantly to Penelope—Josie Saltzman.

Hope and Penelope stopped halfway in their trek towards the school for their five companions—each one their own version of the walking dead in their early morning stupor—to catch up. Lizzie and MG—the self-identified power couple of their little group—lead the slow procession; hand in hand. Penelope’s green-gold gaze settled on Josie Saltzman, the brunette walking behind her blonde twin and looking anywhere, but at Penelope. She was sorely tempted to shout out a greeting to the brunette so she couldn’t continue ignoring her, but _another_ beautiful brunette caught her eye before she could.

The only one of them that was even remotely excited to be there—Evan Kirby—skipped up to Penelope and threw her arms around the raven haired girl’s neck. Her hair was a long illustrious brown, she was only slightly taller than Penelope with perfect hazel eyes which flashed from warm brown to a cool mint green depending on her mood, and she was irrevocably in love with Penelope Park.

Penelope’s arms wove around the girl’s waist on reflex as Evan pulled back from her and kissed her tenderly and slowly on the lips.

“Ugh, it’s too early for this,” Hope grumbled, turning around.

“Get used to it, Mikaelson,” Penelope grinned as Evan nuzzled into her neck affectionately. “Some of us have better luck when it comes to love than others.”

“Maybe I’ll hitch a ride with MG from now on, make you walk your arrogant ass all the way here,” Hope quipped back.

“You’d have to sit on someone’s lap,” MG said absently, walking up to them with Lizzie and Josie flanking him on either side. “Unless you wouldn’t mind crouching in the trunk.”

“Or holding onto the roof,” Landon couldn’t help adding from his place beside Josie.

“No one’s riding on my baby’s roof,” MG scolded, only half-heartedly.

“Your _baby_ , is a gas guzzling atrocity on wheels,” Lizzie snapped, glaring at her boyfriend for daring to put his car’s worth above her own.

“That comfortably seats 5,” Josie added, quietly, clutching the books she was holding against her chest tighter.

Her liquid brown eyes watched Penelope and Evan hold hands and start walking towards the school with them. Part of Josie resented the other girl for being with Penelope and being loved _by_ Penelope, but the rational part of Josie knew why.

Once upon a time, Penelope, Josie, Lizzie and Hope had been inseparable. They’d called themselves the ‘four musketeers’ until Penelope’s older brother had taunted them that, that wasn’t a thing. Growing up—whenever they would divide up to play tag or nerf wars—it was always Josie and Penelope who would pair up against Hope and Lizzie. And Josie had come to rely on that dynamic, on having it be just her and Penelope against the outside world, but that had all changed a year ago.

After an almost kiss one chilly autumn evening and a written confession of love which Josie had thrown into the trash rather than embrace the feelings in her heart, the brunette’s entire life had done a 360.

Around the same time, Josie had also joined the insular world of cheerleading and junior varsity sports. Without meaning too, the brunette had been sucked into the social circles that neither her twin nor any of their childhood friends shared. Suddenly, Josie was popular. She wasn’t left to languish in her more decisive twin’s shadow.

Then Josie had begun dating Connor—the self-absorbed captain of the basketball team—and for months afterwards Penelope had been distant and miserable watching Josie let Connor paw at her and mistreat her in front of his dumb ass friends. Then—over the summer—the raven haired girl had taken a part time job at Landon and Evan’s mom’s ‘The Bean to the Grind’ coffee house as a barista and in no time it seemed, Penelope had returned to school, a sophomore with a new haircut, a hot girlfriend who adored her, and an ever present smile.

Josie shouldn’t have cared. She was with Connor after all. He wasn’t a loving boyfriend or even a good one, but he was the lead jock at the top of their school’s social hierarchy and Josie was head cheerleader so their relationship just made sense even if it wasn’t perfect.

Still, Josie couldn’t help envying Evan Kirby for accepting Penelope’s heart which Josie had so callously discarded when it had been offered to her. If she was being honest with herself, Josie had to admit that she had noticed that she always felt the most like herself when she was around Penelope. The other girl had always been by her side, supporting her, making her laugh, and always listening to her even when Josie wasn’t sure she should still have a voice. Even when Lizzie was too caught up in her own things to consider that Josie might also want a place in the spotlight, Penelope was quick to notice and stand up for Josie without even having to be asked.

But when Josie had turned her back on Penelope’s love, she’d not only lost the possibility of a great romance, she’d also lost her best friend in the process and Josie couldn’t blame anyone but herself. That was probably what made Josie the angriest of all.

They entered the school through the double doors to the large, empty cafeteria, not seeing anyone else until they emerged into one of the main corridors where the sophomore lockers were located. Evan used her hand in Penelope’s to pull her girlfriend back towards her, stealing a kiss before they separated to go to their lockers. Josie watched the innocent exchange as though she were underwater, all of the sounds of students moving around her turning into a painful silence.

“Jo…Josie!”

Josie jumped, startled out of her tunnel vision back and into consciousness by Lizzie’s sharp voice.

“Why are you just standing in the middle of the hallway?”

Josie took in her surroundings. She was indeed in the middle of the sophomore hallway, students shouldering past her as they grabbed their books and headed to classes. Penelope and Evan weren’t even in the hall anymore. MG was gone, but Hope and Lizzie were there looking at Josie with expressions of concern and impatience with their books for class already in their arms.

“What’s up with you?” Lizzie asked again, looking Josie up and down with a critical eye. She reached out a hand and placed it on Josie’s forehead with an invasiveness that bespoke sisterhood. “Are you sick or something?

Josie whipped her head away from Lizzie’s touch, “Don’t! I’m fine. There’s just a lot of things on my mind today.”

“And a lot of lies on your tongue apparently,” Lizzie quipped back, eyes narrowing disapprovingly.

Hope grinned, looking between the twins, but Josie didn’t take the bait, instead she hurried to her locker, leaving her two oldest friends behind to watch hre scurry away.

OOOOOOOO

Luckily for Josie, her first class in the morning was World History with Dr. Alaric Saltzman a.k.a. her dad and he generally didn’t pick on her unless she did something to deserve it. Josie could fly under the radar, but joy at being able to relax was shoved aside abruptly by the realization that Penelope also had that class first thing in the morning.

Could she ever truly be free of the green eyed girl who haunted her dreams? Josie let out a deep breath, shoulders slumping as she leaned against her elbow on her desk.

“When we study the Holocaust, it’s important not to focus on just the testimony of survivors or the statistics of historians, but to remember the multitudes who weren’t given a chance to survive in the first place. Survivors are—in fact—the exception. Most of those who entered concentration, forced labor, and/or death camps never came out again by design. The Nazi leadership never meant for there to be survivors, but the fact that there are not only those who survived, but those who have also thrived, is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It’s for the many who weren’t given a chance to live their lives to their fullest potential that we read books like this,” Alaric held up _Survival in Auschwitz_ in one hand, seating himself on one of the empty desks at the front of the class, “So that we can ensure that such atrocities never take place ever again.”

Penelope sucked in a breath, folding her hands over her notebook. Dr. Saltzman’s class was one of the few that Penelope found interesting, but it was also usually the most depressing. Human history was a shit pile of people doing bad things to each other. Learning about them was somber work and not how Penelope wanted to start her Monday. Her pocket buzzed and Penelope quickly reached into her jeans and fished out her phone, keeping it level with her desk so Dr. Saltzman couldn’t see it. Or so she hoped.

_Hope: Did you read the book?_

Penelope huffed, looking up and over to the desk beneath the window where Hope lifted an eyebrow at her. Penelope glowered and Hope just shrugged in response unperturbed by the other girl’s ire. If Penelope was going to be sent to detention again and risk losing the privilege to drive after dark from her parents, then she wanted it to be for something good, not because she was caught texting someone in class who she talked to all of the time.

The raven haired girl surprised herself when she found herself texting back.

_Penelope: Did you?_

_Hope: *rolls eyes* Yes._

_Penelope: Is there a reason you’re endangering my wellbeing in the middle of class?_

_Hope: Has Josie spoken to you lately?_

Penelope snorted, but quieted before she could actual laugh out loud and shot Hope a look like she was stupid. The phone in her lap vibrated again.

_Hope: I will take that as a no._

_Penelope: Why are you asking me? She wants nothing to do with me remember?_

_Hope: First off, you were her best friend once and therefore are the authority on everything Josie Saltzman and secondly, I don’t think that’s true. I think she wants that to be true, but it’s not._

_Penelope: Oh, so she’s just been giving me the cold shoulder for a year now because she wants to be around me all of the time and thinks I’m oh so beautiful?_

_Hope: I didn’t say that, but there’s likely more to it than you or I know…_

Penelope set her jaw, typing furiously now, cursing Hope and this damn class for ruining her good mood. Cursing her own stupidity for thinking that Josie ever would, ever could love her when she never did anything for herself. Cursing herself for falling in love in the first place. 

_Penelope: What I know is that Josie pushed me away and stomped my heart into the mud when I confessed my feelings for her and we haven’t spoken since. I tried to talk to her, but she ghosted me. Whatever Josie’s problems are these days, she can keep them at this point. I have a girlfriend who loves me and I’m happy and I need to take care of myself. Not worry about Josie and her crappy relationship with that asshat._

_Hope: ..really, Penelope?...this is Josie we’re talking about. The girl you’ve been in love with since we were five…_

_Penelope: I’m begging you. Just drop it._

_Hope: No matter how much you hide your love under bottles of tequila, dangerous motorcycle rides up to the Falls, and near-constant sex with your hot, hot girlfriend, it’s not going to just go away. You need closure before it destroys you._

_Penelope: I’m ignoring you now._

Penelope reached back and tucked the phone into her jacket pocket, but in a sick twist of fate, the phone didn’t drop into the intended pocket. Instead, it fell onto the cement floor tile with a loud thump. The heads of everyone in the room turned towards Penelope except for Alaric’s. Penelope bit her lip, and prayed silently to whichever demented force that created to universe that Alaric hadn’t heard that.

He was what in his forties? That was old right? Old enough for hearing loss maybe?

Penelope was mistaken though. She knew Dr. Saltzman had heard the sound when his shoulders tensed and he stopped writing on the dry erase board at the front of the class. Penelope froze, dreading what was coming as Alaric turned around, following the gazes of every bored student to the middle row of desks in the center of the room where Penelope Park looked up at him, chagrinned.

Alaric sighed and held out his hand, beckoning Penelope forward. Penelope stood, walked towards the front of the class and dropped the phone into the palm of the man whose home once played host to years of hide and seek between her and the twins.

“You’ll get this back at the end of the school day,” Alaric said softly to Penelope, who visibly deflated right in front of him, only superficially maintaining her composure in the faces of those who didn’t know her well. “You know I don’t like to punish you, Ms. Park, but text again in my class and I will send you to detention, understood?”

Penelope nodded and turned to continue back to her seat. It was a small moment, barely a few seconds, but the girl’s green eyes met Josie’s brown ones for a small eternity before Josie looked away and Penelope fled back to her seat. Penelope didn’t look up from her notebook for the rest of the hour, taking notes on things she wouldn’t remember later just to keep herself busy until the bell rang and Penelope could drop her paper onto Dr. Saltzman’s desk and run away.

The bell rang, Penelope turned in her essay, and ran for the hills. Well, not quite the hills, just to her locker really, but there was some solace in being in a space that was technically hers until school ended for the summer. Long arms encircled her waist and Penelope had to stop herself from turning around and decking whoever it was. Warm lips trailed wetly up Penelope’s neck, stopping at her ear.

“I missed you.”

Penelope snorted, her mood perking up a little bit at the absurdity of it all, “You saw me an hour ago.”

Evan just shrugged and stepped back so Penelope could turn around in the circle of her arms, “Time and space are relative.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Yeah, but I’m a hot nerd.”

One of Evan’s hands slipped beneath Penelope’s soft shirt, Penelope’s body reacting against her will.

“You’re coming to my house after school tonight aren’t you?” Penelope asked, her whole body hyper sensitive.

Evan grinned, her fingers trailing lower to rest on Penelope’s belt just above the button that fastened her jeans, “It’s Monday isn’t it? Think you can wait that long or…?”

Penelope grabbed the offending hand from beneath her shirt and pulled her girlfriend away from her locker and towards a janitor’s closet around the corner that was only unlocked because the lock was broken—by Penelope on purpose—and dragged them both inside. Evan had as much self-control as Penelope apparently because her mouth found Penelope’s in the darkness, kissing her deeply. Penelope closed her eyes and suddenly it wasn’t her girlfriend who was kissing her with abandon, but another tall brunette who’d ruined her heart for anyone else long ago.

Josie.

It didn’t surprise Penelope that she imagined the women she slept with as Josie and had done so since she’d started having sex, but it did make her feel a sense of shame that nothing else could. Not even Penelope’s guilt could stop what her heart wanted though, and one day, it would bite her in the ass, but right now Penelope didn’t care.

Evan’s lips instantly became Josie’s lips as they skimmed Penelope’s neck again. Evan’s hands became Josie’s hands as they felt her up and unzipped her jeans. Evan’s satisfied groan when she dropped to her knees and the long brown hair Penelope tangled her fingers into—all of it melded into images, sounds, and touches of Josie loving her the way Josie never would.

Their sex-capades in the closet ended the way all of them did, with Penelope falling over the edge struggling not to let Josie’s name fall from her lips and wishing that—if the one timeless moment of bliss was a dream—Penelope would never wake up. But she always did.

OOOOOOO

Josie saw Penelope and Evan disappear around the corner out of the corner of her eyes, but Connor’s sudden arrival leaning against the lockers beside Josie and undressing her up and down with his eyes, stopped Josie’s brooding before it could begin. Like clockwork, she smiled.

“Hey hotstuff, did you miss me? Cause me and my boner missed you.”

Josie’s smile fell as invasive hands slid from Josie’s waist to her butt and squeezed, pushing the brunette almost into her locker. Conner leaned in for a kiss, but Josie kept it chaste. When they broke apart, Josie smiled again, but it was more forced than before. Hands slipped up her sides beneath her cardigan aiming for Josie’s breasts, but just as she moved to extract herself from Connor’s grasp, Lizzie’s voice cut through the air.

“Hands off my sister, ass-hat. You’re in the middle of the frickin’ school. Have some standards at least.”

Connor opened his mouth to say something that was likely to be stupid and immature in response, but Hope shoulder checked him and leaned against the locker behind Connor, looking at him with a threat wrapped in a polite smile. No decent human being liked Connor, but Lizzie loathed him and Hope would put her money on Lizzie if a fight ever erupted between the two. Josie though always seemed to know when her twin had had enough of Connor because she stepped in before fists could start flying.

“Come on, babe,” Josie whispered, pulling on Connor’s elbow until he moved out into the hall with her. “Walk me to class.”

Connor followed her, but Hope heard him mutter something like, ‘crazy hoes,’ under his breath before leaving and she was just in time to pull Lizzie back from launching herself bodily after him.

“Fucking ass!” Lizzie fumed, hanging in Hope’s grasp until the redhead was sure she was settled down enough to let go of, “One day I’m going to punch that ugly fuck in the face and he’s going to run away crying and it’s going be better than he deserves.”

“I have no doubt,” Hope agreed, letting go of Lizzie and settling back against the lockers as the fuming blonde began to pace back and forth. “Not sure Josie will love it though.”

“I don’t care what Josie will love, or at least, I don’t care whatever this Invasion-of-the-Body-Snatchers version of Josie loves. Ever since she joined that damn cult—”

“The Cheerleaders?”

“—she’s been acting like an alien took over her body and dumped all of her brain cells in the garbage. I don’t even understand what she sees in that pretentious ginger asshole! Even Penelope would be better for her than Connor and I admit that knowing that she spent most of last year diving between the legs of every pretty girl in this school besides us of course.”

“She only did that in the first place because Josie rejected her,” Hope supplied.

“Having a broken heart sucks,” Lizzie agreed, “but that’s no excuse for making poor life choices. And you and I both know that Evan loves Penelope, but Penelope doesn’t love her back in the same way. Our she-devil’s just using her to rebound and that’s fucked up.”

Hope sucked in a deep calming breath, “I don’t think she’s consciously—”

“Are you condoning her bad behavior?”

“No! It’s just—Lizzie—everyone handles heartbreak differently...”

Hope met Lizzie’s eyes, gaze sympathetic. They both remembered how Raphael had slept with Lizzie when he was having a, ‘bad day,’ then dumped her the next day at the Homecoming dance. Lizzie had not taken it well—who would really—but she was more resilient than anyone knew and Lizzie had bounced back, eventually falling in love with someone who already loved her and finding happiness as much as any sixteen year old could.

“I know that, Hope, but that’s no excuse for Penelope throwing herself at any girl who walks through these halls or drinking so much at house parties that she spends the night going in and out of consciousness and days afterwards pale and drawn. We need to do something.”

Hope’s eyes widened as she realized where this was going, “Lizzie, no…”

“Lizzie, hell yes is more like it!” Lizzie cheered, in the near empty hallway, everyone else wisely already in their classes. “Get ready. We’re having an intervention!”

“For Penelope?”

“And Josie.”

Hope was suddenly bombarded with mental images of everything that could go wrong from Lizzie murdering Connor American-Psycho style and making it look like an accident to her and Penelope Thelma-and-Louising themselves off of the Falls that gave their town its name.

While an intervention sounded like a good idea on the surface, they weren’t the most stable group of people, Hope could admit. They weren’t likely to handle an intervention in a stable way that didn’t included high speed chases, someone being held hostage somewhere, and or violence if the Nerf-War-to-End-All-Nerf-Wars they’d fought through the summers of their last two years in Middle School was anything to go by. And that had just been a, ‘friendly competition.’ All-out war would likely destroy the town and Hope wasn’t sure she could live with that on her conscience, especially not if Lizzie was the one with her hand on the launch button.

“Lizzie, I don’t think—”

Hope stopped speaking when Lizzie’s finger landed over her lips, shushing her, “Hush, I will do the thinking.”

Hope watched as Lizzie continued to pace back and forth, rubbing her hands together like one of those maniacal white mice in that cartoon the four of them used to watch together on Saturday mornings.

“While that sounds…great and all,” Hope said, shifting her backpack over her shoulders. “We have school to get on with and I know for a fact that your dad wouldn’t like it if you got detention lurking in the halls out here like one of those kids who still think it’s cool to smoke even though it just makes them look like idiots.”

“You’re right,” Lizzie concedes in a rare show of calculated calmness. “We need to prioritize. School first, vengeance later.”

Hope did a double take, “Hold up. What part of an intervention deals with vengeance?”

“The part that ends unhealthy habits and cleaves bad influences from loved ones.”

“I really hope your idea of, ‘cleaving,’ isn’t what I’m thinking it is.”

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders, spun on her heels, and took off down the hall. Hope trailed her, trying for everything that she was worth not to act like they were twenty minutes late to their chemistry class.


	2. Moths in the Porchlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2...I guess? XD

For once, Evan hadn’t come over to Penelope’s house after school that night, not because she hadn’t wanted to or because she had to work, but because Penelope had made the excuse that she had too much homework to do and—to top it all off—both of her moms would be home (which meant unequivocally no sex). Only half of that had been true, but Penelope was so tired from the day that she was glad Evan had accepted the explanation at face value.

Unfortunately, not everyone had received the memo that Penelope just wanted to be left alone, curl into a ball, and ignore the world. A pebble hitting the windowsill interrupted the girl’s attempts at inner peace. Penelope—true to form—ignored the sound in favor of rolling over on her bed; back to the window. But another pebble was forthcoming then another and another; each one more determined and hitting her window harder than the last.

Finally, Penelope’s legendary emotional control snapped.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The raven haired girl vaulted out of bed and marched over to the window just as a face popped up on the other side; scaring the crap out of her. Penelope scrambled back, fists up, prepared to kick the ass of anyone who thought they could get into her room without consequence when her brain finally recognized the intruder.

“Paris?”

Her older brother’s handsome face—freshly summer tanned and indecently charming—smiled back at her from behind the glass.

“Hey, hey Penny dreadful. What’s up?”

Penelope opened her window, cringing at the creaking of ancient wood, and hauled her brother inside. Once both of his feet were firmly planted on the carpet, Penelope didn’t hesitate to punch him in the arm as hard as she could.

“OW!”

“What the hell, Princess of Troy?” Penelope scowled.

“What the hell to you too, Princess grumpy pants,” Paris yelped back indignantly, rubbing his wounded shoulder and glaring for all he was worth. “Damn. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that rapists can climb you dumbass!” Penelope hissed, “And my big brother is apparently not smart enough after being raised in a house by two women to understand how popping up in a 16 year old girl’s bedroom window unannounced could be taken badly.”

Paris withstood the rant, nodding in agreement once Penelope was finished, “That’s fair. I didn’t mean to scare you though, Penny. I just thought you could use some brotherly bonding time is all. Well, that and I missed your face.”

Penelope released the last of her fear in a loud huff, all of the adrenaline bleeding out of her veins all at once, making her feel weak and oh so tired. Without saying another word, Penelope wrapped her arms around her brother’s shoulders and hugged him.

When was the last time Penelope had just allowed herself to be held like this? She couldn’t remember to be honest and that was sad, but it was marginally better than hanging her heart out where people could trample it. Paris—who was as intuitive and observant as both his sister and police officer mom—must’ve read more in Penelope’s outburst than fear because he started rubbing her back in consoling circles and hugged her until she was finally read to be let go.

“So, I take it, ‘brotherly bonding,’ is code for, ‘one of our moms called you and asked you to come check on me,’ right?”

Paris grimaced, but he knew better than to try to deny it, “Just because I know our parents have noticed your despondency doesn’t mean that I came here for them. I came here to see you because you’re my little sister and I love you—”

“Gross,” Penelope sniped, rolling her eyes.

“—most of the time,” Her brother amended with a frown.

They were quiet for a few seconds before Paris continued.

“So…Bucky’s for root beer floats and onion rings?” Paris suggested hopefully, looking more in that moment like the golden boy Penelope had once looked up to instead of the man he now claimed he was. “My treat.”

Penelope reached for the soft brown leather jacket she’d bought at the thrift store before bothering to give any verbal confirmation. She was already in a pair of worn Doc Martins when she finally said, “Yeah, okay, but we’re not going out through the front door.”

“What do you take me for?” Paris chastised. “Why do you think I risked go through your window instead of walking into the house like a normal person?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Penelope supplied.

“Oh, real mature, princess grumpy pants, really frickin mature,” Paris grumbled.

Penelope slid out on the short overhand of roof that would allow her to shimmy across to the garage and then down the trestle that led to freedom. The necessity of climbing stopped any other words passing between the Park siblings until they reached concrete. They rode Paris’s Ducati Monster into the town center, racing past the overrated Mystic Grill where most of the population of Mystic Falls wasted their free time. Across from Archer and Sons’ Funeral Home was their final destination: Bucky’s Soda Shop.

It was small, clearly built sometime in the 1930s, and run by a man who was proud to have the self-styled prefix to his given name of, ‘mean.’ Most of the teenagers at school snubbed the place because ‘Mean’ Bucky Fell wouldn’t put up with their shit, but it was the man’s no nonsense, ‘get in-get out,’ attitude that made the place Penelope’s favorite hangout spot. Most everything went as expected. Onion rings were replaced by an order of ‘real’ Cajun chili cheese fries that she and Paris took up the fire escape to the roof along with their root beer floats. They settled onto the ledge overlooking the street below and ate in comfortable silence—Penelope gobbling up the least soggy of the fries in the greasy mess on their cardboard tray while Paris did the complete opposite. When only the root beer floats were left, Paris popped their peaceful bubble, sighing.

“So…what’s going on with you and Josie these days?”

Penelope’s shoulders tensed before she began folding the melting ice cream into her root beer foam with her spoon; internally debating whether or not she wanted to waste a perfectly good float by dumping it over her brother’s head. She chose to set it down on the roof abandoned instead.

“Nothing,” Penelope murmured, hoping to put this topic to bed before it could really be explored, but her hopes were dashed when she looked at her brother and his newly raised eyebrow. “Fine, I may still be remotely heartbroken. Jesus, first Hope and now you. Please tell me you didn’t come here to bust open my recently mended heart and rub salt in the wound?”

Paris sighed, wincing in empathy at the sharpness in his sister’s tone. He ran his hand through his short spiked hair, a nervous gesture he’d never outgrown, “Look, Penny, I’m not here to rehash what went down between the two of you last fall, but when you don’t treat your wounds properly, they can fester. Same thing can happen with hurt feelings and I’m here to do whatever I can to help you heal.”

Penelope let out a short, bitter laugh, feelings her heartstrings twist painfully. She’d been having a good time up until now just hanging out with her brother, but the joy she’d been feeling had soured with her brother’s betrayal.

“So now you’re a doctor all of the sudden?” Penelope asked, suddenly angry.

“No, I’m just—”

“You’re just what, Paris?! Huh?” Penelope nearly shouted at him. “Did you really think you could come back here and Big-Brother everything back to normal when you couldn’t do anything when my heart was being broken in the first place?! God fucking damn it!”

Penelope stood up suddenly on the concrete ledge of the roof they’d decided to dangle their legs over while the siblings ate their greasy dinner.

“Penny!” Paris shouted, immediately alarmed. “Penelope, get down here right now before you break your neck!”

Penelope ignored him and continued balancing as she walked across the ledge to the corner of the building. Her unhappy expression was confident; arrogant even as she twirled around on one foot before planting both back on the ledge. Letting out an annoyed huff, Paris placed his hands on his hips and tried not to have a heart attack. Penelope wasn’t making it easy on him though. She did another twirl, but instead of catching herself easily, she began to flail. She wasn’t panicking though. She seemed almost…resigned to what looked to be her fate and as Penelope’s body began to stumble ungracefully, a smile came to her face as if she was looking forward to falling…

“PENNY!”

OOOOOOOO

Hope Mikaelson loved her family deeply, but she hated them sometimes too. Like when she was the last one to say, ‘not it,’ when her Uncle Elijah chose whose turn it was to go out and get the Chinese takeout because the House of Fung didn’t deliver. Luckily, she worked out so carrying the three or so bags stuffed with cartons of food back to her poorly parallel parked Mercury Capri was doable. Tonight though, some external force was punishing her, because Lizzie Saltzman chose the moment before Hope crossed the street to rush over to her from Deano’s Pizza on the corner. Hope loved Lizzie—she was her best friend of course—but Lizzie wasn’t someone who enjoyed or ever offered to help with manual labor so as the red head struggled to re-balance the bags in her hands, it surprised her when one of them suddenly became weightless.

“I got it,” Lizzie chirped from beside her.

“Um, thanks?” Hope said. “I thought you were going to be permanently unleashing your inner bitch from now on?”

“Well,” Lizzie smiled, shrugging. “Even she needs a break sometimes. So, I figured that since you’re here, I would help you and, in return, you and I could plan our intervention strategy.”

Hope looked both ways to confirm that no one was coming towards them before crossing the street with Lizzie in tow, “I’d love to, but as you can see, I’ve once again been roped into being my family’s takeout mule. Believe me, if I don’t get these dishes to them still steaming, there will be a pending homicide.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but jumped ahead to stand in front of Hope once they reached the sidewalk on the other side, “Spare me your Mikaelson family theatrics for one night. I’m willing to risk your family’s wrath if it means finally yeeting Connor from Josie’s life.”

Now, it was Hope’s turn to roll her eyes, “It’s not your life you’d be risking. It’s mine so talk fast.”

“I was thinking that we have to take things in steps, but they have to happen quickly, like one right after the other, and planned out so well that if something does go wrong, it won’t jeopardize everything.”

Hope shouldered open her passenger side door and set the bags of food on the floor before popping back up to face Lizzie, “I’m hearing a lot of generalities, but not a lot of plans being thrown around.”

“Forgive me, I’m new to this Dr. Evil style of scheming. That’s one of the reasons I ran over here when I saw you so we could start brainstorming…”

At some point during Lizzie’s soliloquy, Hope glanced up and had to do a double take. There were two people on the roof of the soda shop. That in and of itself wasn’t alarming, but what was scaring her was that one of them was stumbling unsteadily along the thin concrete ledge and it looked like…Penelope?

“Lizzie,” Hope interrupted, eyes focused on the daredevil girl and the boy who looked like he was trying to reason with her against the background of a dusky sky. “Lizzie!”

“What?” Lizzie responded, following Hope’s sightline.

Finally her blue eyes settled on the two people Hope had noticed and they widened as she came to the same conclusion.

“Is that…”

“Penelope…”

“…Satan wouldn’t be that stupid would she…hell, yes she would.”

“Damn it!”

Hope slammed her passenger side door shut and started to run, lucky that no one was coming down the cross street because she neglected to look both ways for oncoming traffic. The pounding of hurried footsteps behind her let Hope know Lizzie had followed her as she mounted the fire escape and climbed for her life. They both bounced onto the rooftop, startling the boy—Hope now recognized was Penelope’s brother—and almost Penelope herself, who swing her arms back towards the roof in an attempt to steady herself, not quite as ready for death as perhaps she’d thought.

“Jesus!” Paris shouted, in alarm.

“If it isn’t Blondzilla and the Wolf girl,” Penelope sneered, tone meaner than either Lizzie or Hope had ever heard it in the decade they’d known her. “You two come up here to howl at the moon together?”

Penelope winked at Hope in a way that suggested she knew more than she was saying, which made Hope freeze up in fear for a completely different reason next to her best friend, but all of Lizzie’s attention was focused on Penelope in a deadly glare.

“No, we came up here because we somehow still love you enough to save your arrogant ass! Now, get down from there you crazy bitch before you fall and we have to scrape splattered pansexual off of the pavement!” Lizzie yelled, hands on her hips.

“Lizzie!” Hope hissed, warningly. “Don’t antagonize her!”

“No, Hope,” Lizzie countered, not even trying to be quiet about it. “I’m done walking on pins and needles around her. “ Lizzie turned back to Penelope who was watching her with a smirk as though this were some sort of comedy and she were enjoying being the star player immensely, “You need to get your shit together, Satan. No more drinking and whoring. I know my sister was the one who put your heart through the shredder and then some, but just because Josie’s been an idiot for the past year doesn’t mean she doesn’t care for you or have you forgotten about some disgusting, sugary sweet moments from our childhoods when she was convinced you could do no wrong and sunshine came out of your ass?”

Distracted, Penelope frowned suddenly, trying to recall all of her memories growing up beside Josie.

Lizzie was kind of right—though Penelope would jump from the roof before she’d admit that—most of Penelope’s memories of Josie were pleasant ones where the girl always seemed to want to take care of her no matter how hard the raven haired girl tried to be tough and pretend she could take care of herself without anyone’s help ever.

“And—I don’t know about you,” Lizzie continued, “but I don’t want to be the one who has to tell Jo that you offed yourself. It’ll destroy her and though—she does deserve a little payback maybe for how she treated you—Josie doesn’t deserve to suffer like that for the rest of her life. None of the people who love you do and that’s exactly what will happen if you fall and break your neck. Now, for the last time, get down from there, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, before Hope has an aneurysm.”

In the wake of Lizzie’s outburst there was something new. A complete and utter silence so encompassing that it might have been the dark of the night itself wrapping around them between streamers of street light. Hope’s mouth hung ingloriously open as she just stared at the blonde to her right. Penelope was still standing on the ledge, but her eyes were narrowed and the wheels in her head were obviously turning as she too stared at Lizzie. Paris—for his part—still looked apprehensive enough to jump up on the ledge and grab his sister at any moment, but he resisted, keeping a healthy distance between them so Penelope didn’t react to any sudden movement.

Every one of them was more than a little surprised that Lizzie Saltzman—the queen of mean, first of her name, and the undisputed mother of all selfish urges—had actually said something helpful for once.

“Wow, Liz,” Penelope finally said, leaping down from the ledge and landing in a safe squat on the concrete roof with a cheeky grin. “I didn’t know you cared about me that much. Just to clarify though, you’re not really my type. I prefer my women tall and brunette and—”

Once Penelope was safely planted on her feet again, Hope rushed forward, fist slamming into Penelope’s angular face and knocking the other girl into full throttle unconsciousness before she could finish her snarky comeback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title comes from the song, "Moths in the Porchlight," by Folly + the Hunter. It's a good song to write to. 
> 
> Leave a comment on the way out with your thoughts. Thanks for reading. :)


	3. Spiegel im Spiegel (Mirror in the Mirror)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this chapter is all about Penelope starting to heal. It's short and it does contain mentions of suicide so if that is triggering for you, please skip it. It's here to really get us into Penelope's state of being right now. The next chapter will move the plot forward. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. :)

When Penelope woke up on Tuesday morning after the ‘Bucky’s Debacle,’ as it would forever be known in family lore going forward, it was to the headache from hell. She spent her first few seconds of consciousness cursing out both her brother and Hope’s fist before cursing herself and her melodramatics.

Her mother had always said that the Parks’ volatile emotions had followed them all the way from North Korea to the States in the late 1960s and served them well in surviving in a country whose people neither accepted them as natives nor respected them as individuals with their own cultural and linguistic heritage.

Penelope had heard the stores of Freddie Park and her sisters being teased for being some of the only Asian girls in their class and how they were always being called, “those China girls,” or ,”those Japanese bitches,” as if all Asians unanimously only came from two countries instead of an entire multicultural region of the world that everyone east of the Pacific seemed to conveniently forget about. For Penelope—surprisingly enough considering the town of Mystic Falls and the general ethonophobia consistent in most of the American South—it hadn’t been a huge problem. She knew that it was in large part due to the other side of her family tree, which for whatever reason seemed to mask her exact ethnicity to most people, causing other townies to simply classify her as, “exotic,” or ,”mysterious,” which had encouraged Penelope in turn to classify them all as ignorant idiots and move on with her life.

Right now, though all of Penelope’s energy was being used to keep her from slamming her aching forehead into the headboard so she could go back to being unconscious instead existing of in this fucked up limbo of physical pain and misery.

_Damn Paris,_ Penelope cursed internally again. _Fucking Hope and her fucking right hook…_

Before Penelope could add further names to her shit list, however, she heard her bedroom door creaking open. A hesitant knock sounded from the doorframe, which never made sense to Penelope whenever her moms’ did that because the door was already open so they were essentially already trespassing, but trying to explain that to them had led to getting grounded whenever she tried so Penelope had relented.

Freddie stood in the doorway, wearing an open blue and black flannel shirt over an _Invader Zim_ t-shirt and Darth Vader lounge pants. Were Penelope feeling better, she would’ve pointed out and made fun of all of the contradictions of those questionable fashion choices, but she didn’t even want to do that, which was a red flag if ever there was one.

In both hands, her mom held steaming earthenware mugs of what Penelope knew would be tea. Without saying anything, Freddie set one of the mugs on the nightstand right beside of Penelope and proceeded to sit down Indian-style on the foot of her daughter’s bed.

Penelope sniffed the air.

Ginger.

Her mom had predictably brought her ginger tea. It was like Freddie’s equivalent to some American’s use of Pepto Bismol. A cure-all that was brewed from loose leaves and brought out at every opportunity.

Have a fever? Here drink some ginger tea. The Flu? Here, let’s brew a pitcher of the stuff. Menstrual cramps, migraines, sore muscles, swollen joints, PMS—basically anything could be wrong with anyone in their household and ginger tea was the prescribed remedy. The ridiculousness only grew in intensity when Penelope’s halmeoni or any number of aunties or cousins came to visit. Because of this, Penelope had come to develop an aversion to the stuff, not physically, but on principal. Unless she was dying and was forced to take Ginger tea as the cure through an IV, Penelope would not drink it.

Freddie knew this and yet the cups of ginger tea never stopped coming. In fact, Freddie was blowing on her own mug in her hands as Penelope watched her do it, wrinkling up her noise in annoyance as her mom took a large sip.

“So…” Freddie started with a hesitancy she hadn’t used with Penelope since she was six and the girl had been called into the principal’s office because she’d decked poor, dumb Billie Donovan for stealing her and Josie’s hiding place behind the slides during a spirited recess game of Hide and Seek, “…your night out with your brother sounded…fun.”

Penelope screwed her eyes shut and pulled the goose-down comforter over her head as she attempted to ignore the world entirely and sighed.

“I also hear that Hope’s Muay Thai classes have finally paid some dividends,” Freddy continued, in an all too calm tone for Penelope’s liking considering the situation she’d gotten herself into. “Hayley will be pleased to hear that, I think. Though the part about how her only daughter and one of the Saltzman twins stuffed you into the backseat of her Capri and drove you unconscious and drooling—and yes—Hector took pictures that are probably all over the internet by now—home where your mother and I were greeted by not just one, but two of our almost adult children in distress probably won’t please her so much.”

The comforter was suddenly pulled out of Penelope’s grasp and the girl sighed in defeat, eyes opening and focusing down at Freddie who was still sipping at her tea and maintaining a level stare that made Penelope want to squirm.

Finally, Penelope let out another long, exasperated, exhale before clearing her throat and uttering her first raspy words since the anti-climactic evening before, “What do you want me to say, mom? There’s literally nothing I can say that I think you would accept.”

Freddie shrugged and lowered her mug to her lap, “No, but I’d like to hear you try. I think I deserve that much after opening my door last night to your near constant partners in non-victimless crime standing outside of my home, holding you military-stretcher-style between them, bleeding and unconscious with Paris standing behind you looking scared and guilty as hell.”

Despite the pain in her head, Penelope took in a deep breath and pushed herself back up against the pillows into a sitting position. Luckily, her parents had redressed her in a simple heather blue shirt and a pair of workout shorts so she hadn’t spent the night sweating away in her leather coat and jeans. Still, the more comfortable clothes couldn’t soothe the uncomfortable confrontation taking in place in her bedroom right now.

“Clarifying question to your question before I answer: what did Paris tell you?”

Freddie shrugged again, dropping her gaze into the swirling ginger depths of her drink, “He came home, scared the daylights out of you by crawling through your window, took you out to Bucky’s for a heart stoppingly greasy dinner, then attempted to talk to you about your poor teenage emotional management skills at which point you stood up on the ledge of the roof and would’ve gone the way of the Dodo had it not been for Lizzie Saltzman’s silver tongue and Hope’s angry fist. Now you tell it.”

Penelope sighed, trying not to think too much about her brother and the words, ‘Lizzie Saltzman’s silver tongue,’ too closely, “He covered all of the high points, but before you pass judgment, I’d like to say something in my defense, if it pleases the court?”

Freddie’s eyes narrowed, her eyebrows descended as she met Penelope’s gaze again, eyes blazing, but voice still unnervingly calm, “You think there’s anything you can say to defend yourself after recklessly almost falling from a ledge and becoming roadkill from three stories up?”

Penelope rolled her eyes. Her mom was making an entirely too big of a deal out of this. It wasn’t like she’d gotten drunk out of her mind and literally stood on one of the cliffs of the town’s not-so-mystic falls with the intention to offing herself…recently. To be honest, it’d been a while since she’d drank too much and taken her Honda CMX500 up the steep mountainesque roads, but this…this wasn’t like that. She hadn’t intended to actually do anything, she was just angry at her stupid brother and his dumb stupid interference in her life after she’d finally gotten it somewhat pieced back together. God…her life sounded like the lyrics to a nickelback song…

Penelope swallowed and shook her head, “No, but you need to know that I didn’t get up on that ledge to jump. I was just angry at Paris and it—it wasn’t like I’d been drinking or anything I just—”

“You just what, hm?!” Freddie asked, voice rising from eerily calm to steadily, irrationally, angry. “Do you think your life is a joke, Penelope? Do you think it’s funny to play roulette with your well-being? It’s not, because let me tell you, you have so many people who love you and cherish you and who would be broken if you made one final impulsive mistake that you can never take back. Do you know how many deaths I’ve been called to at the Falls just because this person or that person lost their perspective and did something stupid they wouldn’t live to regret? Do you know how many bodies I’ve seen splattered on rocks, all of the potential of who and what they were and could’ve been gone because of one—one moment of despair?”

Penelope swallowed again and wrapped her arms around her bare knees as Freddie’s gold-green eyes pinned her in place.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for the families of those people to understand how the person they loved could be here, smiling and living one morning and dead in the quarry the next? No matter the circumstances—whether they knew, whether that person was undergoing treatment, or had been on medication, or hiding everything from their loved ones—no one is ever prepared to take that plunge and no one is ever prepared for the people they love to take it either. It’s…it’s all about perspective. I know me and your mother are busy people, but I’ve always like to delude myself with the illusion that we were, ‘cool parents.’ The kind you’d feel okay going to with your burdens because, sweetheart, your burdens aren’t just yours. Everyone carries them at some point in their lives and it’s okay to ask someone to share those with you.”

Penelope felt her throat tighten as the corners of her eyes began to sting. She hadn’t expected to become the emotional one in this exchange, but something about Freddie—she just knew every emotional acupuncture point to hit to release the waterworks. It’d been like that since the day Penelope had gone to kindergarten and bumped galoshes with her first bully and had come home in ashamed tears. Juliana would hold Penelope, coo to her soothingly while drying her tears, tell animated bedtime stories, and offer fresh chocolate chip cookies—which really were the cure-all for the soul—but it was Freddie who would sit down with her on the steps of the back porch and put everything into perspective in a way that made Penelope feel better.

Penelope didn’t understand how Freddie did it, but it had always saved her in terrible situations. Both of her moms—with their differing strengths and all the love in the world to give—had always tag teamed their children’s days and there was never a moment when Penelope or her siblings hadn’t felt completely, unconditionally loved because there was always someone there to offer comfort or a hug or a strategy for healing or a game to play.

As she’d grown up though, Penelope had begun to rely more upon her friends for those things. They too had each had their own strengths when it came to supporting and loving their companions. Hope was never the type of leader who led them on missions—that was actually usually a Lizzie thing—but Hope was the type of leader who cared for everyone on the team. She’d turn around while they were playing a game or running somewhere and run backwards counting all of them, making sure everyone was accounted for and no one anywhere was left out. If someone was left out or in distress then Hope would be the first one to race to their aid and everyone else would follow because she inspired that in others. Lizzie led all of their the games and wars of assorted seriousness, coming up with dubious schemes that would eventually lead to some sort of indirect win for them all, and Josie had this compacity for love and empathy that outshone almost anyone Penelope had ever known. 

It was one of the things that had made Penelope fall for Josie at the tender age of five.

They’d been playing a game of collective baseball between the Parks, the Saltzmans, and the Mikaelsons in a vacant lot on Penelope’s block. The adults were—as always—the most competitive and into the game, but the children had given it their all too, manning mostly the outfield and sometimes the bases where they were more enthusiastic than the rules permitted to catch and take out one of their relatives with a baseball. Paris had been guarding second base rather viciously when Hope’s Uncle Kol had hit a ball into the outfield. Hope had accidentally caught the ball—which surprised her more than anything—then handed it to Penelope like they were playing American football instead of baseball, to run to Paris on second before Kol got there.

Penelope had always been a good sprinter and Kol—the most arrogant of his siblings—liked to jog whenever the children were in the outfield just to make them work harder at catching him without success because he could. Penelope’s eagerness and Kol’s over confidence had literally clashed in a terrible way, with Kol managing to somehow run her over. Penelope would have bruises for a week and a scrapped knee, but she’d been more scared at the time than anything, breaking into sobs that made her angry because—emotions—as Freddie had carried her off of the field. She’d been set down on a bench and had shrugged off the arms of her parents once they’d found that she didn’t have any real wounds to speak of.

After they’d given her some space, Josie had raced over without any hesitation. All big doe eyes, knobby knees, and a blistering smile as hot as any summer’s day, Josie had clambered up onto the bench beside her and folded her entire small frame around Penelope’s battered body, just holding her. She hadn’t said anything and neither had Penelope. Instead, Penelope had just let herself be held and Josie had curled around her and they’d actually fallen asleep together like that, only waking up when it was dark out and the game was over, their parents collecting them to go home for dinner, tub, and tuck-in. Even then, Josie had been loathe to let go of Penelope and when she and was being carried away in her father’s strong arms, she’d looked over his shoulder, big eyes shining like she was worried that Penelope wouldn’t be okay without her.

The very next day, Penelope had been the first member of her family to stumble out of bed and down into the kitchen. Immediately, she discovered not just Josie, but Hope, and Lizzie all pressing their faces into the patio window, trying to verify, ‘signs of life.’ Hope had given her a thumbs up when she’d seen Penelope awake and upright, Lizzie had grumbled about being hustled out of bed by Josie for this, and Josie had just grinned when their eyes met through the glass—the small girl’s entire face lighting up at the sight of her.

It was one of the memories Penelope had always kept close to her heart and used to revisit in times of sorrow, but then…she’d finally told Josie that she loved her in a way more than friendship and—after the fall out from that had ruined her—Penelope couldn’t summon that memory up without causing herself more pain and heartbreak. After Josie had literally cut herself out of Penelope’s life, the raven haired girl hadn’t known how to cope. She’d lived for so long with Josie, that she hadn’t understood how to live without her on a physical, mental, and emotional level.

And this wasn’t just the normal level of teenage heartbreak or angst that seemed to permeate TV, movies, and even stereotypes—it was so much worse than any of that because Penelope hadn’t just lost the girl she loved or her best friend even—she’d lost the one person who’d always only noticed and cared about her first. Josie loved everyone and deeply—but she’d always been closest to Penelope and Penelope had returned that unwavering devotion and in the end—that love—just apparently not how Josie had meant it.

Now teenaged Penelope’s eyes burned in earnest and she closed them, biting her lip to stifle a sob as she felt tears start to fall from the corners of her eyes. Even after a year, it still hurt so much to feel that void inside of her where Josie’s love and that beautiful smile had used to be. At the same time that Penelope felt herself begin to fall back into the maelstrom of emotional turmoil she’d never been able to fully escape, a pair of strong arms enveloped her into a full hug. Freddie had set her half empty mug down on the nightstand and enveloped Penelope into a tight embrace—her love giving Penelope the strength to break completely open for the first time and fall apart against her shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Leave a comment on the way out if you are so inclined.


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